The tall tales & tragedies of the Chattering Scroll Inn

[myrmaad]

The old breton sage called myrmaad was sitting on a tall stool in the corner leaning back against the wall. She took a long sip of her mandrake root beer and in a strangely low yet irritating voice related,

"Well all i can say is I was on my way to the store to buy new shoes when I got accosted by a Daedric prince who asked me if I could do him a favor and go look after his inn."

"He had the air of a young sheogorath so for better or worse I figured I should."

 

Then she leaned back and took up again, writing in her little black leather journal.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Introduce your character here.

[MikeRyan]

Michael Whitefang paced at the far corner of the inn. He was a big nord with dark brown, almost black hair with a big scar running across his somewhat pale skinned face, most likely from a fight a long time ago, with a thin beard covering his jaw and wearing a light, yet strong looking armor with a strange black robe with a small brown fur cape over it, the robe looks similar in style to something an master assassin from another country and era would wear. On the table in front of him lays various items stacked, steins, quills and parchments and other random objects. He had a habit of muttering to himself and dispatching his sword for no reason other than to stun the odd soul who might be too near him...

 

“You want to hear my story?” He said with a laugh “Sure I can tell you my story, but it’s not like the fairy tales you are used too, just so you know!” After a while he sat down at his chair and kept muttering to himself

Edited September 20, 2011 by MikeRyan

[MotoSxorpio]

A strapping, yet sagely, Nord-looking fellow replies to the Breton: "Yeah, haha, I think there is something more to that fella giving you this Inn."After sipping his ale for a few quiet moments: "Maybe I should look into that for you, maybe recruit some unknown Champion to assist?"<br> Edited July 27, 2011 by MOTOSXORPIO

[MotoSxorpio]

A strapping, yet sagely, Nord-looking fellow replies to the Breton: "Yeah, haha, I think there is something more to that fella giving you this Inn."After sipping his ale for a few quiet moments: "Maybe I should look into that for you, maybe recruit some unknown Champion to assist?"<br>

 

Then with a smirk in his voice: "But I doubt there any worthwhile around here...least since I retired."

[myrmaad]

The old mer looked at him for a long moment, and said, "Well. It could be I guess.. but I'll handle it." She paused and sipped her tea. "On another matter though, we're having a troll problem." She glanced at the big Nord in the back. He was walking around in a circle, talking to himself and occasionally dispatching his sword to slice circles in the air.

 

"Maybe you and a few others could take a little hunting party out? If you're bored, that is. I heard there were some seen on the other side of the woods across the road. Sometimes they just walk in like they're going to order a drought. Are you up for it? Or you could sit here and be cozy and safe with us womenfolk." She gave him a droll glare before she laughed heartily and took another drink of her root beer.

[MotoSxorpio]

"Aye, that would be a nice vacation from retirement, always liked bashing Trolls." He looks around, catches a new customer in his expert eye. "Ya, know, I may have just found a suitable hunting companion...excuse me." The Nord-looking fellow stands and crosses the Inn..muttering to himself, "Me and woman, wish I knew how to tell her...hrmmph. She probably wouldn't go for a meat head like me..."

 

"Hey, you look like the adventuresome type...would you like to accompany me on a Troll Hunting expidition?"

Edited July 27, 2011 by MOTOSXORPIO

[MikeRyan]

The Nord looked at the man who had approached him and quite calmly asked: "What do I earn from it? Except the satisfaction of a good fight. And what weapons should i bring?"

 

 

He then checked his belt to make sure that he had all of his bags securly attatched to it.

 

"Also, whats your name stranger? You look like a man who knows what he is doing so you have my trust, for now atleast"

[Corlan]

The High Elf is playing with his mug, pretending to be deeply focused on it, finally he takes a sip while listening to the two brutes not sitting far from him

 

"Don't be foolish, you cannot master a troll by strength alone, you must set an ambush, use traps, stealth and magic. Although since I do not think Nords know anything about the latter, I am willing to aid you, although it comes with a price... And it won't be cheap"

 

He said in a strong, controlling yet charming voice, allowing his tone and sharp wit to strengthen his words, give them precision and make them land on the opponents mind, like a charm, whilst still looking at his mug without even blinking, pretending not to care. "Who says ignorance is bliss, it'll provoke their curiosity, draw them in to accept the offer. In the end, more coin for me" he thought, letting a delicate yet hidden smile run through his lips.

Edited July 27, 2011 by Corlan

[MikeRyan]

The Nord turned around and looked straight at the Altmer and with a bone chilling tone: "While I may have brute blood of the Nord running through my veins, I've been trained with the mages guild for long years since I was yet a tot. But another hand is always welcome into the fight.

Stealth is no issue when you have done some things you can't be proud of. But tell me, Elf, what is your price? It's good to have an extra companion, or a meatshield, depending on how it goes."

 

He finished his sentence with a quiet laugh and then turned his attention to the stranger that had approached him earlier: "So, are we talking cash or loot payment on this job?"

 

 

Overhearing, the hag in the corner laughed, "All the root beer you can drink"

 

 

Just then a burly bearded Orc sporting an apron and tattoos stepped from behind a stack of boxes near the back door.

"That's no hag, that's my wife!"

Edited July 27, 2011 by myrmaad

[MotoSxorpio]

Brought back from his thoughts of long nights in a cozy cabin somewhere isolated in the Skyrim mountains with a favored Breton, the taller than normal Nord replies, "Payment? Bah, all the LOOT an Altmer can carry, and a few Dunmers and add in an Orc or two...they can pack like a mule, I hear."